Category: Musings and Poetry

I, have a hammock. Somewhere in a drawer is a list of things, like self-improvements, you could say, things I needed, in another life markers of okayness, of moving forwardness. An apartment with a living room A terrace Yoga Work less A hammock That was a long time ago, a lifetime ago, when I stumbled …

I had seen the village between the mountains and the sea, with the flowers that seemed to burst forth from behind every bendy corner every broken wooden fence every ditch beside pot-holed country roads. It was always sunny there and the water was always warm as I floated on my back, looking up at blue …

I have been in Canada for six months now. I came back a hurricane. I took refuge in the impermanence of my dwelling: a canvas tent in a back yard, moved every few days either by me or the wind to keep the grass alive and to avoid growing roots. I loved the spot by …

Out on the lake which slips by a deep blue full of questions beneath my canoe, I watch the hills. You can only watch something that moves. You look at something stationary. But the hills move, though imperceptibly (in a manner that is so slight, gradual or subtle so as not to be perceived). They …

We drove for days on end. We drove until pines and lakes gave way to prairie flats. In the flats, the butterflies came. They floated, drifted, languidly, all of a sudden caught up in wind tunnels caused by highway speeds. We smiled at them, doing loopty-loops, catching themselves and flapping on as if nothing had …

My tent blew away today, and that is exactly how I feel. I didn’t peg it down, maybe because there was nowhere to peg it, or maybe it was symbolic, who knows. I suppose recently I have developed an aversion to roots, of any kind. Sitting on the porch swing pretending to be writing, willing …

Slow travel had turned into a standstill, at a point in time which I cannot determine, no matter how carefully I examine the past three years. Three years. I can’t believe how long I’ve been gone, how long I stayed. When a family emergency called me home, I had just days to decide between a …

It snowed in Florence. The fountains froze mid-spray. In the forest on my way to work in the tiny farmhouse-turned-school where I teach, we found a giant toad, frozen on the path mid-stride, on his way to somewhere. We took him along with us and called him Viktor. My winter parka still has a Canadian …

Today is the fourth day in a row that I have eaten a spoonful of peanut butter for breakfast. Yes, three days in a row now with a very empty pantry, due to a combination of laziness and a lack of cash. My December rent money, due in just under two weeks, is hidden in …

I stepped off the bus onto a narrow winding road on the hillside. It had been a stressful few weeks, preparing for the move, getting my papers in order, organizing job interviews, taking the long flight... I found my head swimming almost non-stop. It had taken me just over one hour to get here on …